Now I Know What Dying Means
by andstilltheyechome
Summary: It's been a year since the events of New York and the threat of Thanos looms. On Earth, Alia gets on with her life, oblivious to a past and a boy she can't remember. Yet, when Thor and Loki appear in London, the truth comes with them. Past and future collide as the Avengers are called in, and Alia finds herself entangled with a fight she never knew was hers. Loki/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N – So this may not be my first fanfic but it's my first one about Loki. I've been wanting to write one about him for a while, so please let me know what you think! All comments, constructive criticism and words of wisdom are welcome. Not entirely sure where I'll be going with this, but the opening just came to me. Without further adieu, here's the beginning.**

* * *

Chapter One

There was a storm brewing over London. The clouds were roiling, scudding across the horizon. There was a pulsing crack of far-off thunder, deep and heavy.

Alia watched the encroaching storm from her bedroom window. This was one of the few times where having a flat on the billionth floor was a good thing. There was almost nothing between her and that storm. It made climbing the stairs when the lifts were out of order worthwhile. She loved storms. Loved and feared them. They filled her with a sense of foreboding, and they filled her with a sense of power.

She reluctantly pulled herself away from the window. She had ten minutes to get to work. No more time to waste watching the storm roll in.

Alia grabbed her parka from the back of the chair and pulled it on, throwing her bag over her shoulder. She snatched her keys from the table, did a quick spin on her heel to check she hadn't forgotten anything, then raced out the door.

She was in luck. The lifts were working today. She rode one down from the seventeenth to the ground floor, shifting her weight impatiently. The doors slid open and she hurried through the foyer and out into the charged air. The rain hadn't started yet. She knew for a fact it would begin while she was on the tube, meaning she'd get soaked on the last stretch of her journey.

The London Underground itself was heaving. Alia wormed her away through the crowds, rushing past everyone on the steep escalators, before forcing herself onto a waiting train as the doors beeped harshly, sliding shut behind her. She held onto a bar beside a stone-faced businessman as the train pulled away.

Today was going to be a long one. She had an entire website to redesign. Everything she'd made for them so far they didn't approve of. She was fast running out of ideas, and it was becoming clear that monotony would soon be the death of her.

When the train finally pulled in at Alia's stop, she had to battle her way across the carriage to get off. Too much effort for a day she didn't want to put any effort into.

She took the stairs two at a time, hoping to at least beat the rain. She ascended towards the street and the sky. In her short time underground, the sky had gone from a slate grey to an almost black. She paused at street level, scrunching her eyes as she dared to look upwards. A lone drop of rain landed on her forehead before she even had time to register its fall. She blinked involuntarily and wiped the water away.

It was then that the sky lit up with a flash of lightning, an arc shooting through the clouds. Alia smiled as the thunder followed quickly afterwards and the wind began to pick up. Well, at least there was no downpour yet.

Alia was still staring upwards when the second flash came, brighter and closer than the first. This one shot downwards, but Alia couldn't tell if it struck anything. Her smile was fading now. This storm looked more violent, more angry, than any Alia had seen before.

She started moving again, shrugging her parka tighter around her. Maybe a day in the office wouldn't be so bad.

The third flash came, and it was enough to wipe the first two from anyone's mind. The lightning struck the ground with a force like a plane crash, thick and blindingly bright. There was a deafening crack, like stone breaking, and all pedestrians on the street froze.

The lightning had struck on the next street over. Only the next street over wasn't a street at all, but Trafalgar Square.

Alia had been going that way before, yet now she picked up her pace. Her boots slapped the pavement as she hurried along, heading for the corner. She rounded it, expecting to see blackened stone in the square, and that was exactly what she saw, except the patch wasn't empty at all.

Alia faltered, momentarily confused. So lightning might not strike twice and all that, but why stand where it just had? It was like you were asking for trouble.

She continued walking, planning on just breezing past on her way to work, getting a good look at the situation in the meantime. But with every step the unfolding scene became stranger.

Two men were stood in the patch of blackened stone. The first thing Alia noticed was that their outfits were odd, to say the very least, yet strangely familiar. Both of them were tall, with long hair. Yet that was where the similarities stopped. Where one was muscular and blonde, the other was lean and dark.

There was a thin crowd around the two men, who themselves seemed to be stuck in a heated discussion. The crowd was slowly backing off, but Alia couldn't help herself. Instead of skirting around the scene, her feet only took her closer.

Like everyone else, she watched on warily as the two men spoke to each other. Alia could barely make out what they were saying, words drowned beneath the rush hour traffic. They kept their voices low, but she could see the tension in their bodies as they spoke, necks straining to spit out what they had to say.

The blonde man was speaking, calmer than the other, and as Alia stepped as close as she dared she caught what she supposed to be the tail-end of his sentence. "You agreed you would tell us; you cannot go back on your word now, brother."

The other man blanched, but the action itself seemed ironic. "I never agreed to anything. I said what I had to in order to be freed and now my part in that charade is over."

Alia glanced at her watch. She was going to be late for work. She didn't think her boss would be too happy if the reason for her tardiness was that she'd been too engrossed in someone else's argument.

She moved to leave, yet didn't get very far when someone else's words caught her attention. "No, but they weren't there before. The lightning hit and then those two were there clambering off the ground."

Alia glanced behind her in time to see the blonde man scan the small crowd. He reached for the other man, gripping his shoulder and turning him away as if to leave, but the dark-haired one viciously shrugged him off. "If you think I will tell you then you're truly more stupid than I thought, brother." The last word dripped with a fierce sarcasm. "Thanos will come and the Earth will fall. I have no intention of saving a world that isn't mine. In truth, I look forward to seeing the look on your face when your precious humans are crushed beneath Thanos' fist."

The dark one looked to the crowd then and smiled, wide and condescending. He didn't seem to care too much that his confusing argument had an audience. He glanced towards his brother and said, "Perhaps I should warn them. Instil a little premature fear."

"Loki, you will do no such thing!" his brother answered, reaching for him again, this so-called Loki, but this time his hand went straight through him, Loki's figure flickering with a sickly green tinge.

A collective gasp went up among the crowd. Alia could only watch as Loki stepped closer to his audience. She was so astonished that she didn't notice the people around her backing off slightly, leaving her the person stood closest to the advancing Loki. She forgot all about being late for work and remained rooted to the spot. How had he done that? Her pulse was picking up, hammering in her veins. And with it came her anger. The fight or flight response. Always her answer had been fight, and it had garnered her a lot of trouble. Yet it was something she was unable to control.

Loki scoured the faces of the crowd. His eyes lingered on Alia and his smile only grew. A smile tinged sour. "You all must remember the events of New York," he began.

Alia didn't know if he was expecting a response, but the words slipped from her lips before she could give any thought to them. "Yeah, why?"

His gaze snapped back to her. There was an energy in his eyes, bright and thrumming. "Then you must remember the destruction," he continued, taking deliberate steps closer. Alia didn't have a response this time. Keeping her mouth shut was something she desperately needed to work on. "How would you feel if I told you that New York was only the beginning? That what happened there was only a fraction of the pain you will witness and endure?"

Alia didn't move. She watched him approach her as he spoke, his eyes locked onto hers, his step never wavering. She suspected his words were meant to frighten her, but they only made her stomach twist with an anger bubbling beneath the surface. He clearly took pride in scaring people, so scare her he would not.

"Loki," his brother snapped. He'd had enough of Loki's games now, and this time when he clamped a hand on his shoulder it didn't fall through him. "Loki, come with me, leave this."

There was still a hint of a smile on Loki's sharp face, so Alia took it upon herself to smile back. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. "Your name," he said. "What is your name?"

The question caught Alia a little off guard, but she answered anyway. "My name's Alia."

"Alia," he repeated, and she couldn't deny the name sounded softer and more lyrical on his tongue. There was a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Excuse us, Alia," the blonde brother interrupted, pulling sharply on Loki's shoulder, "but I must speak with my brother."

It was then that Alia noticed the large, metal hammer in his hand. She frowned. It all made sense now. This was Thor, one of those who had fought in the battle in New York. She'd caught some news coverage of it, but that was over a year ago now.

Thor half-dragged Loki away, back towards the blackened stone. He looked to his left and Alia followed Thor's gaze to see two policemen approaching. Instead of simply walking off, Thor began to spin his hammer at his side. Loki attempted to wrench himself from Thor's grip, lashing out, but Thor caught him by the back of his clothes and leaped.

And they were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N – thank you for the support so far, I can't wait for you all to see what I've got planned for this fic! Keep any comments you have coming, I'd love to know your thoughts. This chapter is a little longer so enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Two

When Alia got to work she was shaking with both fear and anger. When she left it was no different. Her boss hadn't believed her when she'd tried to explain the morning's events in the most sane words she knew. There had been a brief moment of satisfaction when her boss had seen the amateur footage that had appeared on the news at lunch time, but that was only a brief respite. Her clients had once again requested five thousand changes to her website design, and both she and them were running out of patience.

It made her sad to think that Thor and Loki's display in Trafalgar Square had almost made her feel more positive emotion than she'd probably felt in weeks.

If you could call adrenaline that.

Now she was opening her front door to the sound of the TV blaring and all the lights switched on. Faye's head was peeking above the back of the sofa, a grin on her face.

"I think I might regret giving you a key," Alia said, dumping her own on the kitchen worktop.

"Well that's a blatant lie," Faye answered, turning the TV volume down marginally. "How was your day?"

"Shit, to put it mildly," Alia replied. She was relieved to open the cupboard and see her pot noodle waiting for her. She'd half expected to catch sight of the empty remains sitting on the coffee table, the innards devoured by Faye.

Faye grimaced in sympathy. "Did you see the news though? That really attractive god, Thor, and his brother turned up in Trafalgar Square, trashed it, then left."

"They didn't trash it," Alia said, pouring hot water into her pot noodle.

Faye raised an eyebrow. "Did you see it from your office? There was only a grainy video on the news. I think whoever recorded it was unfortunate enough to own a Blackberry. Couldn't hear anything anyone was saying either."

Alia sniggered. "The poor soul. Two gods crash land in front of them and they only have a Shitberry to hand."

"So did you see it from your office then?" Faye pressed.

There was a split second of hesitation on Alia's part. She stirred her pot noodle. "No," she said, "I was there, actually."

Faye's eyes widened and she sat up a little straighter. "I thought it was you but I wasn't sure!"

Alia nodded. Her stomach was squirming, but she couldn't put a finger on the emotion. "Yeah, it was me."

If Faye's eyes could get any wider there was a real worry they would pop out of her skull. "You know what, I recognised the clothes on the girl but I couldn't make out her face and this one guy was kinda stood in the way so I just presumed it wasn't you but... Jesus, what did he say to you?"

Alia carried her pot noodle over to the sofa, forcing a mouthful in on her way there. "He just asked me my name."

"Did you tell him? Your name, I mean."

Alia swallowed another mouthful and nodded.

"Your real name?"

Alia frowned. "What was I meant to tell him?"

"A fake name, obviously," Faye answered. "You're probably on his hit list now."

"He seems more like a guy who has a bone to pick with the whole universe rather than one graphic designer."

Faye grimaced again, but this time there was a hint of amusement to it. "You never know; he seems a bit erratic."

Alia rolled her eyes. "Erratic or not, I'm sure he's got more pressing matters to attend to than stalking me."

"Speaking of pressing matters," Faye said, "pub crawl tonight. Well, pub slash bar crawl but no clubs, just a laid-back night out. You up for it?"

"I don't know," Alia answered. She'd only had a dozen or so mouthfuls of her pot noodle and she was already going off it. "I'm still being harassed about that website design."

"Well it can wait till the morning, Ali, come on."

Alia finally met her friend's eyes for longer than a millisecond and immediately she knew Faye was right. She desperately needed a night out with friends, a time when she could get an adrenaline rush from socialisation rather than a couple of gods making a scene.

"Okay," she said, mustering a smile. "Who's going out then?"

* * *

They were in an underground bar, the bass bouncing off the wood panelling, the dim lights casting long shadows across oil paintings and stag heads. The place felt like a hunting lodge crossed with an army bunker, but ultimately it felt cosy.

There was a whole group of them sat in a circle of plush, mismatched sofas and tartan bar stools. After a few Malibu and cokes, Alia was feeling loose. Smiles came easy to her and the stress of work seemed like a speck on the horizon about to disappear. She didn't care about the website any more. She didn't care about her clients or her boss. They'd turned her passion into her ball and chain and they were on the verge of tossing her into the sea. But that wasn't going to happen. Not now she was quitting.

"Right," she piped up. The chatter in the group died down. "Seeing as I'm quitting my job tomorrow, this will probably be the last time in a while that I'll be able to buy you all a round of drinks, so put your orders in now before I go to the bar."

She ended up having to type a list down on her phone. The sight of it filled her with doubt for a moment, but she brushed the feeling away, getting to her feet. She forced her way through the crowd a little impatiently and found a spot at the bar. There were only two barmen and it was safe to say they looked rushed off their feet. Alia mentally crossed 'bar work' off her list of potential future jobs.

When the barman glanced over her for the first time, her impatience began like a vice squeezing her ribs. When he did it for a second time, serving the person to her left, it rose further. The third time made her impatience peak.

She curled her hands tighter around her purse. She was only seconds away from shouting at one of the barmen to get their attention when someone slipped into the gap on her right, forcing her to the very edge of the bar.

Alia sighed irritably, leaning a little further over the bar so the barmen could possibly see her better, but they remained oblivious. She fell back onto her heels, trying to keep her impatience in check, but it was fast bubbling over into anger.

"Excuse me, I think this young woman has been waiting a while to be served," a voice cut through the noise, smooth as untouched snow.

Alia's head jerked upwards. She knew who the voice belonged to before she even saw him. Loki looked down at her, his eyebrows raised, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He was dressed smartly in a long overcoat with a shirt and tie. He looked to Alia like he should be attending a dinner at a stately home, not hanging out in an underground bar.

Alia hurriedly glanced about her, but no one seemed to be running or screaming. "What-" she began, yet found herself cut off when the barman appeared like a lightning bolt in front of her.

"What can I get you?" he asked.

Alia floundered, her mouth working like a fish, opening and closing but no words coming out. She glanced between Loki and the barman, both watching her expectantly. There was a look in Loki's eye that she didn't entirely like.

"Um," she started, fumbling with her phone. She read out the list to the barman, the whole time acutely aware of how close Loki was stood beside her. She wanted to glance behind her at her friends, hoping they'd be able to understand the look in her eyes and come to her rescue, yet at the same time she didn't want to draw Loki's attention to them. She had no idea how long he'd been here, or how he even knew she was here. It could be a coincidence, but even as that thought crossed her mind Alia felt silly for just thinking it. Why would a self-proclaimed god be in a London bar?

When the barman moved off to prepare the drinks, Alia felt even more like she was on her own. Her eyes flicked up to Loki's face, but she found she didn't want to hold his gaze. That in itself annoyed her; she couldn't let him know he was making her nervous. She had a feeling he fed off that kind of thing. "Where's your brother?" she asked.

"He had a prior engagement," Loki answered.

"That's a shame." Alia's hands were getting sweaty already, clutching her phone and purse tightly. She discreetly wiped each palm on her jumper in turn. She'd thought a baggy, thin jumper over a summer dress would be fine as summer slipped into autumn. However, she hadn't factored a Norse god into the equation. She could feel her face reddening.

"Would you rather my brother had paid you a visit?" Loki asked. His apparent amusement was grating on Alia.

"I would rather neither of you had paid me a visit," she replied. Alia kept her sight firmly fixed on the barman, willing him to make the drinks faster.

"If that's how you feel then I'll trouble you no further; I'll take my apology and be on my way."

That caught Alia's attention. She glanced at him. The glint had left his eye but she guessed it was lurking there somewhere. "Apology?"

He looked at her incredulously, as though she should know what he was talking about. "Yes, an apology," he said, "for what happened earlier today. I'm sorry if I frightened you."

The barman approached carrying a number of drinks. "The others will be done in a minute," he said.

"Oh, thanks," Alia answered. If he thought she looked flustered, he didn't mention it. She turned her attention back to Loki. "You didn't frighten me, anyway."

He cocked his head, smiling again. "Oh?"

Alia bit back a snappy response, swallowing the words with difficulty. "Do you have to go apologise to everyone else who was there this morning now?"

Loki chuckled, a breathy laugh. "I hadn't planned on it."

Alia's stomach squirmed again, like a snake coiling around its prey. "Why are you apologising to me then?" she asked. She wanted to know the answer, but the very thought of it frightened her, frightened her more than Loki himself did.

Loki turned, leaning back against the bar. He was tall and lean. A part of Alia wished she had worn heels tonight. "You said your name was Alia," he began.

Already, she didn't like where this was going. She glanced warily at Loki before trying to peer past him. The barman was finishing up with the drinks. He was taking too long for Alia's liking, and she was getting twitchy. "Yeah, it is," she answered. "Sorry but would you mind leaving me alone now?"

She threw another glance Loki's way, worried how he'd take it. He simply watched her. The dim bar lights accentuated the hollows beneath his high cheekbones. She could practically hear his mind working. He was holding something back.

"You're different," he said. His eyes flicked to the right, towards the expanse of the room. "To them."

"What?" Alia stared at him. Her own mind was spinning in loops and circles, a whirlpool of emotions fighting for dominance.

Before Loki could elaborate, the barman appeared with the last of the drinks. "That's £32.50 please."

Alia struggled to open her purse. She wanted to put at least a roomful of people between her and Loki, and the sooner the better. It would just be helpful if her hands would comply.

"The drinks are on the house," Loki said, apparently to the barman, startling Alia.

She opened her mouth to shout something at him when the barman piped up, "It's fine, the drinks are on the house."

Alia stared at the man, dumbfounded. He smiled at her like nothing was wrong, then turned to serve someone else.

She glared at Loki, words lost to her. "How...?" she began, quickly petering out. It was like he wasn't even there. She raced through her thoughts, frantically searching for an explanation, when she realised the barman hadn't acknowledged Loki once, yet had done everything he'd said.

Loki grinned as Alia searched for the right words. "Are you even here?" she finally managed to ask. Her voice sounded shrill to her ears and she hated it.

Loki only laughed. "You should know," he said.

The cryptic answer only served to push Alia's confusion over into anger. "What does that even mean? I should know what?" When he didn't answer immediately, her anger hit boiling point. "What do you want, anyway?"

Loki's smile softened. The sight of it simply made Alia more on edge. "I only wish to help you," he said, leaning a little closer.

"Help me how?" she snapped. She was aware that they were taking up space at the bar, people waiting for them to leave. For _her _to leave. Did it look like she was shouting at no one?

Someone pushed past her and she stumbled, falling into Loki. He raised an arm to keep her from toppling to the ground, but as his hand brushed her she jerked away and yelled, "Leave me alone!"

The ground seemed to lurch beneath her feet and for a moment Alia thought she was about to have some kind of panic attack. Then she caught sight of Loki's startled expression, and the matching ones on the faces of those around her. It wasn't just her who felt like the whole room was shaking, it was everyone. All because it actually was.

Glasses chimed, bar stools rocked, people struggled to stay on their feet. Alia gripped the edge of the bar like her life depended on it, no longer caring how close she was stood to Loki.

And then the tremors stopped.

The room was silent for a moment before urgent whispers cut through the quiet. Someone asked rather loudly, "Was that an earthquake?"

Alia stared at Loki. His expression dissolved into something unreadable. "Was that you?" she asked him.

He looked at her long and hard. "I think we both know who that was."

Alia didn't know if she could even bring herself to decipher his words. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest, pounding against her ribcage. Her mouth felt dry, like it was full of cotton wool soaking up her saliva.

"Alia!" It was Faye. Her friends were heading for the stairs, looking shaken. Alia waited for Faye to notice Loki, for Faye to hurriedly drag her away. Yet it was just as Alia thought; Faye looked straight through him. "Leave the drinks, we're going. Come on!"

"Okay," Alia managed to answer. She looked to Loki, expecting him to say something else, for him to try and keep her behind. Instead, he held an arm towards the stairs, gesturing for her to follow her friends.

She made to leave, her limbs trembling, when he quickly grabbed her arm. He bent a little lower, his face closer to hers. "When you're in need of answers, I'll be waiting."

Alia couldn't say what made her pause before snatching her arm from his grasp. His words had resonated deep within her, like a clumsy foot knocking the pebble that awakes the dragon.

Either way, as she hurried up the stairs, she felt like that wasn't the last she would see of him.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N – Thanks for the support so far, keep it coming! All thoughts and comments are welcome. **

* * *

Chapter Three

A tedious corporate function. A middle-aged man of slightly below average height was wearing sunglasses, despite being indoors. His phone began to ring, so he excused himself from the small talk with a smile that dropped as soon as his back was turned.

As he answered the call, weaving through the crowd, he said, "Whoever this is, thank you for saving my sanity."

When the voice on the other end of the line spoke, he raised an eyebrow, heading towards what he hoped were the quieter corridors."Fury, to what do I owe the pleasure? Did Captain Jolly Rogers decide to go for the 'human ice sculpture' look again?"

He was only a few metres away from the hum of the function hall when he paused, his steps faltering. His expression hardened as he listened, the smiles directed his way from passers-by barely brushing his awareness.

As the phone conversation continued, his tone became sharper."When?... Why wasn't I told about this earlier?... No one even told me they were coming in the first place... Uh huh, a little late for that... I can leave now... Believe me, as pissed as I might be this couldn't have come at a better time; send Jarvis the coordinates."

He began walking again, quick strides taking him further and further away from the function. His voice cut through the growing quiet. "Lost? How difficult is it to keep track of two gods, I thought you people lived for this kind of thing... Fine, I'll get Hammer-time; tell me when you've found the evil twin."

He ended the call and exited through a fire escape, skirting the building at a jog. The car park was out front and it wasn't difficult to spot his own car; instead of driving round searching for one of the few remaining spaces, he'd left it right outside the entrance. He fished his keys from his pocket and the car unlocked with a flash and a shrill beep.

In the boot he found the briefcase. It was time to suit up.

* * *

A dark, Los Angeles street. A woman walked alone, her short hair ruffled by a westerly breeze. She appeared casual, checking the contents of her handbag, fixing her hair. She passed beneath the sickly spotlights of the street lamps, her heels clicking on the concrete, the light casting a golden tinge to her red hair.

It was when she passed the alleyway that the hand shot out. Anyone else would have felt the fist connect with their nose, but she wasn't just anyone. She dodged the blow, gripping the disembodied arm and yanking its owner into the street.

What happened next was a flurry of well-aimed blows on her part and a little sloppy footwork on his. She had the man pinned to the tarmac in under ten seconds. He struggled, but she was strong.

"Now," she said, as she pulled the handgun from her bag, "you're gonna do me a favour and show me the way to Zhukov's, khorosho?"

The man swallowed and nodded. She allowed him to get to his feet, the gun aimed at the back of his head.

He led her down dingy back streets, his hands twitching at his sides. It wasn't long, though, until the distant hum of car engines and the peel of sirens began to be overpowered by different sounds entirely. Voices. A lot of them. And gunfire.

The man glanced back at her. She jerked her gun for him to continue. They rounded the street corner and a warehouse loomed into view. It seemed the shouting and rapport of guns was coming from there.

"Is this Zhukov's?" she asked him.

The man nodded and licked his lips nervously.

Another sound joined the fray. Chopper blades, pummelling the air. It intensified, and she looked up just in time to see a helicopter approaching. A spotlight on its front turned on, bathing the warehouse in sheer, white light. She could only watch as the helicopter hovered lower, landing on the wasteland beside the building.

Instantaneously, the warehouse doors slid open with a shriek. A few figures spilled out, guns raised, bullets still ricocheting inside. A group of men followed the stragglers outside, guns firing. She recognised their S.H.I.E.L.D uniforms immediately. How they had got here before her, though, remained to be seen. She looked on with a sense of utter confusion.

It wasn't until Clint Barton stepped from the chopper that she had an inkling of what was going on. "They've got it from here," Clint said. "Fury needs us."

"Now?"

Clint nodded. "Now."

* * *

A small, South African apartment. Outside, the sun was just beginning to show its face. A man sat slumped at his desk, sleeping, his face pressed into the piles of printouts.

He woke with a start as his phone began to ring, knocking the half-empty mug of cold coffee onto the floor.

He sighed, sitting up and rubbing at his tired eyes and sore neck. Stark had forced the mobile phone on him, and he was the only one who ever called, pent-up with ideas and theories. Stark was never one for taking time zones into consideration, or even phone bills. He could only presume that Stark took care of the phone bill.

By the time he had pulled himself from his seat, the phone had stopped ringing. He stood for a moment, a little annoyed that he'd got up only to miss the call. But then the ringing started up again, and he was forced to hunt for the device beneath the mess his tiny apartment had become.

He eventually found the phone, yet for once he didn't recognise the number. He presumed Stark must be calling from a different phone. "Did you find those plans at all?"

The haze of sleep abruptly left him when the voice that answered wasn't Stark's.

"Did Stark give you this number?" he asked. "Right, should have seen that one coming." His brow furrowed as the speaker on the other end of the line continued. "Now? I'm in the middle of important research, I... London?... No, no, I understand; just thought he might have gotten the hint by now..." His eyes widened as he listened, frown dissipating. "So he's meant to be helping? Doesn't seem like that's working out... Five minutes, okay. I'll be ready."

He dropped the phone on the sofa and sighed. As if the day hadn't looked long enough already.

* * *

A S.H.I.E.L.D quinjet. A man sat near the back of the small plane, a tablet in his hands, held a little uncertainly, as he waited for it to do something.

"Will this just-" he began to ask the pilots when the screen suddenly flickered to life.

Fury's face appeared, calm as ever.

"Fury, care to explain what all this is about? And where I'm actually heading?"

Fury inclined his head. "There's no easy way to put it. Earth is under threat again."

"From who? Or should I say, from what?"

"_What_, indeed. He goes by the name of Thanos, and we have reason to believe there's only one who knows at least a little of him."

"Who?"

"Loki."

He let out a disbelieving laugh. "Let me guess, you've asked that nut case for help."

"Not help, exactly, but answers. Only it seems that even getting that out of him is going to be like drawing blood from a stone."

"I could have told you that."

Fury raised an eyebrow. "We asked Thor to bring him to here for questioning, but let's just say the Asgardian transport service isn't exactly reliable."

He bit back a sigh. "Where did you lose him?"

"London. That's where you're heading. The two of them were spotted in Trafalgar Square a couple of days ago. There was also a report of unusual seismic activity in Soho, but there was nothing seismic about it. We suspect Loki."

"And Thor?"

"Stark has got him."

"Okay. Any idea where the other one is then?"

Fury shook his head. "Not yet, but we're searching."

* * *

_She knew this place. Or maybe it was deja vu telling her a lie. Either way, Alia didn't mind. Nor did she mind being a child again. Everything was always better when you still had a semblance of your innocence. _

_The ceiling felt miles above her, like that of a Cathedral. The long, wide corridor was bathed in a late afternoon glow. The floor, the walls, the pillars all looked like marble, or liquid gold. The place smelt of wealth. Of rich food and old books and lavish clothes. All of it made her smile, her cheeks a little chubby with baby fat._

_She reached out to press her palm against a pillar – she had a sense it would be cool to the touch - when a face darted out from behind it, making her jump._

_A child's face, grinning mischievously, black hair pushed back even at this young age. Loki. She knew it was him. He had that air of intelligence about him, but none of the darkness. No shadows had taken up residence in his face yet._

_"__You scared me," she admonished him, but found herself still smiling._

_"__Come on," he said, "follow me". He grabbed her hand, pulling her behind the pillar. The pillar itself was close to the wall, only a small gap behind. Loki pushed on the wall and a section slid back, seams appearing where there had been previously been none. Alia would never have thought a door could be concealed so exquisitely. _

_With the section pushed back a little way, a slim rectangle of darkness had been revealed to one side. Loki slipped through, pulling Alia after him, and the wall slid back into place with barely a sound. _

_They stood in the dark for a moment, their breathing loud in the sudden silence. It was oppressive, seeming to push in on their ears. _

_"__What is this?" she asked him._

_"__You'll see," came the answer, and he dragged her onwards again._

_The floor felt gritty beneath Alia's feet as they walked. With her free hand, she brushed the wall with her fingertips. It was rough, like it needed to be sanded, but not at all lumpy, which suggested someone had carved out the passage._

_And it was cold. Unbelievably cold. _

_"__Where-" she started to ask, but Loki shushed her._

_Up ahead was a dim glow, like a child's night light. The darkness around her seemed to prickle and sway, but she could just make out what seemed to be a corner. A feeling of apprehension overwhelmed her, but she allowed Loki to keep leading the way._

_It was only when they rounded the corner that her apprehension gave way to blind terror. Loki had stopped walking, but she stumbled, her feet skittering on the loose rock beneath her, an arm thrashing about in empty space. Loki caught her, pulling her back._

_Because the tunnel had come to an abrupt end, and in front of them was nothing put empty space and stars. Nothing but the vast darkness of the universe._

_She breathed heavily, surprised she could even do so. It was like the sky had just ceased to exist, and there was nothing between the land and space._

_"__Would you like answers now?" Loki asked, his voice suddenly deeper than before, and darker, and Alia looked up to see that he wasn't a child any longer and, she realised, neither was she._

_She looked at him, and a feeling of sadness seeped into her veins, of regret, yet she couldn't place the reasons behind it. She felt like she'd lost something. It was all wrong. Everything had gone astray._

_She didn't know what the right response was either. Yet it seemed that no response was the wrong one, as his wry smile dropped completely and he pushed her from his arms, out into the darkness._

* * *

Alia woke suddenly. Her limbs felt heavy and clammy and her heart was beating like a pneumatic drill in her chest.

She sat up a little shakily. She had known that place, she had known it. She tried to remind herself that it had only been a dream. It was just a shame that dreams could feel so real. Yet this one had felt more alive than normal. She couldn't shake the sense of eerie deja vu. It felt like someone had prematurely pulled apart a butterfly and pinned it up, the butterfly still alive, fluttering frantically, despite everything, to be set free.

It was morning now, though. She concentrated on throwing the covers off, on the sensation of the chilly air sapping the heat from her body. She looked down, despairing of herself as she noticed she was still dressed in the outfit from the night before. She didn't want to think about what had happened, mini earthquake and all. She'd probably have to avoid BBC News for another day. But it was a Saturday. No work. The thought was a shot of relief as she padded across the bedroom. She could curl up on the sofa and watch films, not have to worry about website designs or outfits or strange gods. The weekend would be her well-deserved detox, her route back into normal life as she shook off these feelings that plagued her.

She hesitated before opening the door. Something still felt off-kilter, something she couldn't explain.

She pushed the sensation away and turned the door handle.

For a fleeting moment she wondered if she had really woken up from that dream at all.

And maybe she hadn't, because the words that slipped from between Loki's smile were, "Would you like answers now?"


End file.
